


Cake by the Ocean

by silverfoxflower



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25852354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverfoxflower/pseuds/silverfoxflower
Summary: Geralt opens his seaside bakery on a sleepy morning.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 18
Kudos: 205





	Cake by the Ocean

Geralt hauled the blackboard placard outside to the boardwalk, enjoying the early-morning cool, the smell of salt air and the sound of distant, crashing waves in the silence. With a wet rag he began wiping the placard clean of yesterday’s specials, smiling at Ciri’s doodles of Roach beside Eskel’s neat handwriting telling customers to come in for _Fresh Biscuits for the Dog Days of Summer_. 

The muse of the very same placard padded outside after her master, giving a great yawn before submitting to a scratch behind the ears from Geralt. No one had ever quite ascertained Roach’s breeding, but from her size it was fair to say there was a bit of Great Dane, or perhaps Saint Bernard. 

The empty blackboard looked like a fresh beginning. 

Geralt picked up a piece of chalk and carefully lettered By the Sea: Specials of the Day on both sides. After that, he sat on his haunches, stumped. 

Yesterday had been peach biscuits, warm and crumbly with chunks of sweet summer fruit sprinkled throughout. The day before had been Vesemir’s famous sour berry tart. Clearly, there was a fruit theme this week. 

“What do you you think, Roach?” Geralt asked, smiling as Roach flopped at his feet. “No suggestions? You’re usually so imaginative.”

“Relying on Roach to carry the both of you again?” 

Geralt looked up to see Triss and Yennefer making their way down the boardwalk. Despite predicted temperatures in the high eighties, Yen was dressed in all black, including an oversized leather jacket and dark sunglasses perched on her nose. Triss, more appropriately attired in a mint-green t-shirt and overall shorts, carried an armful of heather. Both paused to greet Roach, who took their attention as her due. 

“Did you get coffee down the street?” Geralt squinted at the paper cup in Yen’s hand. “We have coffee.”

“Your little feud with Aiden’s shop doesn’t concern me,” Yen waved her hand. 

Geralt caught Triss’ eye. “She’s disloyal.” 

“Don’t pull me in on this,” Triss laughed, kissing Yen on the cheek and the corner of the mouth before pulling away to hand Geralt a bunch of heather. “Here, maybe this will brighten up the place a bit.” 

Geralt thanked her gravely, thinking about whether they had any unoccupied vases left or whether these would need to cool in one of the chipped mugs Vesemir could never bear to throw away. 

Triss left with a wave as a pounding of feet drew Geralt’s eye to the door. It was Ciri, the hem of her long sundress floating up with every jump she made down the stairs, exposing her scabby knees and myriad of bandages on her legs. Lambert followed after at a more sedate pace. As usual, they were quarreling - this morning about the plot hole in a children’s cartoon. 

“Ciri!” Geralt called, and she veered outside, petting Roach first before giving Geralt her attention. “Do you want me to braid your hair?” 

Ciri hesitated, “Can Yen do it?” 

Yen snorted, giving Ciri a fond pat as she walked in the door and retrieved her barista apron from a hook. 

Geralt frowned, hurt. “What’s wrong with the way I do it?” 

“You pull,” Ciri said. “Besides, Yen can do a crown.” And with that she grabbed the heather from Geralt’s hands and whirled away, her loose blonde hair a bouncy cloud puff around her shoulders.

“Children, they grow up so fast,” Lambert said, shaking his head as he stepped outside. He took a deep breath of the ocean air, rolling his shoulders. 

Geralt frowned deeper as he watched Lambert tap out a cigarette. 

“Chill. It’s my day off, remember?” Lambert said, but he didn’t make a move to light it after he stuck it in his mouth. “The new kid has his first shift today.” He made smooching noises as he bent down and played with Roach’s floppy ears, which she tolerated, leaning against his leg. 

“Let me guess,” Geralt said, turning back to the placard. “You’re heading to Aiden’s.” Disloyalty everywhere. 

“I mean, his shop did just get a soft-serve machine-” 

“Just go,” Geralt said, exasperated. 

There came the ringing of a bicycle bell, and a young man pulled up. “Are you having trouble with that?” He had an easy smile and cornflower-blue eyes, the fringe his brown hair ruffling in the salt breeze. He looked to be about college-age, and was wearing some ridiculous combination of floral board shorts and denim jacket with sequin embellishments that made Geralt grimace. 

“Yeah, Jaskier ... was it? Make this your first assignment,” Lambert jerked a thumb towards Geralt. “Help this poor man make a pun for our daily special.”

“Oooh, I’ve always wanted to do one of these things!” Jaskier jumped off his bike and hunched down next to Geralt, close enough to bump their knees. He reached over to pet Roach lazily as he considered. “How about ... Apple of my Pie?” 

Geralt looked at Jaskier and thought of warm, flaky crust eaten under the sun, tart white apples, cooked slowly to melt in your mouth. He thought of licking his fingers and tasting salt and butter and sweet. 

“That could work,” Geralt said gruffly, as Jaskier yawned. 

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s a long bike ride. I had to get up at 4am.” 

“Have you had coffee?” Geralt asked, hearing, from inside, the soft chatter of Ciri and Yen. Eskel whistling as he pulled his first batch of early-morning rolls from the oven. The clink of the espresso machine as it slowly lumbered to life.

“I hate my roommate’s shitty Keurig,” Jaskier wrinkled his nose, “I passed a shop on the way over, but I wanted to wait until I got here to caffeinate, ‘cause, you know, free.” He stood, dusting off his knees as he walked to his bike. “Let me stash this thing and I’ll be right in,” he paused to grin in Geralt’s direction. “Glad you like my work ... boss.” 

Geralt watched him go, the board shorts becoming marginally more tolerable with the way they framed Jaskier’s ass.

“I’m gonna make him Employee of the Month,” Geralt muttered. Roach, who had been the unchallenged incumbent for the last six months, gave him a long-suffering stare.

**Author's Note:**

> My [tumblr](https://greyduckgreygoose.tumblr.com/tagged/myfic).


End file.
